


Day Four - Greek Mythology

by elwon



Series: JayDick Week 2017 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blacksmith!Jason, Demigods, Get Together, Greek Mythology AU, M/M, Wandering Hero!Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: Jason flattens the metal and says nothing. He’s focusing hard on drawing the metal out into a sword shape, losing himself to the rhythm of lift, drop and strike, so that he forgets how Dikos is still standing there watching.





	Day Four - Greek Mythology

Jason’s steadfastedly ignoring the hubbub going on the townsquare outside his forge. Some wandering hero’s come through the area and the townspeople are making a big fuss. Currently they’re mobbing him by the well where he’d stopped to get a drink. The young ladies are squealing, (apparently this guy’s the son of Aphrodite or Eros or one of those pretty gods, Jason’s not really interested) the men are almost but not quite trying to impress him with their flexing muscles. (If Jason could roll his eyes any harder, he’d probably hurt himself.)

He pulls the iron that will become a xiphos out of the forge and rests it on the anvil, hefting his hammer and striking soundly while the iron is still hot. He keeps his attention on the metal he’s working; he’s got too big of an order from the local warlord that needs to be finished sooner rather than later to watch the commotion. He puts the half drawn sword back into the forge to reheat and wipes at his sweaty forehead with his arm, drawing it down over the left side of his face just to make sure he’s caught it all.

Out of the corner of one eye he sees a man on his hands and knees crawling out between the legs of the mob. It’s fucking comical and if Jason wasn’t so busy he’d laugh. The man gets to his feet quickly, running for cover. Unfortunately he runs straight for Jason’s forge, throwing him an apologetic look as he dives towards the back of the workshop, hiding in the shadows.

Jason sighs and tries to decide if it’s worth potentially wrecking a xiphos to turf the guy out on his ear. A quick glance into the fire tells him the sword’s ready to be worked on, middle glowing a bright white. His job is more important than some crowd shy hero, so Jason grumbles to himself and thinks that if it turns out that the man is a thief, he’ll cut off some fingers and that’ll learn him.

Eventually the mob realises that the hero has disappeared and disperses, leaving only the few market stall holders and the errand boys milling around the square. The man ducks his head out of the shadows looking as sweat drenched as everyone else but Jason seems to get in the forge, while Jason finishes hammering out the rough shape of the xiphos and shoves it back into the fire for the last time. The man smiles at Jason and from his handsome face Jason can see why he got mobbed. 

“Thanks for letting me hide back there. I’m Rikárdos, call me Dikos.” The Hero says, his smile spreading across his face with a twinkle in his eye that Jason can tell is meant to endear him to the demigod. It doesn’t work on Jason though. The few children of Hephaestus tend not to like the many children of Aphrodite on principle and Jason is no different to his siblings. 

“Jason.” He grunts out, more interested in checking on the metal than conversation, Jason can tell it’s ready to be quenched, so he pulls the xiphos out of the fire and plunges it into the small vat of oil by the forge that’s there for just that purpose. Flames arc out as the oil catches fire from the heated metal. He pulls the sword out of the oil, still flaming, but he hears no popping sounds, and once he’s waved it about a bit the flames go out and he can check if the blade has warped. It hasn’t, so Jason takes the nearby file and runs it down the edge of the blade. It slips down smoothly as it should when the metal is hardened enough. Jason allows a smile of pride as he places the blade in a pile with the others to be ground into sharpness. Jason picks up the next lump of metal to be put into the forge and doesn’t startle as he remembers that the son of Aphrodite is there, watching him with that seemingly ever present smile.

“Did you want something?” Jason asks. “Got plenty of blades to sell, if you’re needing one, hero.” And Jason’s not one to turn down the extra coin. He’s getting a reputation as a reliable bladesmith, good enough to start thinking about maybe hiring an apprentice. 

“You’re Jason of Seirá Párkon?” Dikos asks, and Jason nods. “You made a hoplon for Brusos? He said that I should commission you. Practically raved about the shield you made for him. And you know how hard it is to get any sort of praise out of him, since you met him. So I was in the area and thought why not?”

“You got coin?” Jason grunts, throwing the lump of metal in and stoking the coals in the fire.

“Enough.” Dikos says, wiping the glistening sweat from his face that makes him look like the shimmering sparkling demi-god he is and perching on top of the anvil which makes Jason’s eye twitch in irritation. “You know, I tried to pick Brusos’ hoplon up once, couldn’t even get it off the ground! Who’d’ve thought that much metal would be that heavy... Anyway, you’ve heard of Herakles’ club?”

“Who hasn’t? What about it?” Jason says, turning away to avoid shoving at a potential client.

“I want two clubs made of metal. Smaller than Herakles’, but packing just as much of a punch.” Dikos leans back on the anvil and Jason half hopes the stupidly handsome man will fall back off it. 

“I can do that.” Jason nods. “I got a rush on with this job; can you wait a couple of days?” 

“I can. If you tell me where the inn in this town is...” Dikos smiles at Jason again, batting his eyes for good measure. It probably melts everyone else he meets, but Jason stares at him blandly.

“There isn’t one. But I’m sure one of your loving fans will put you up, if you ask.” Jason checks on the metal in the fire, wondering why this billet seems to be taking so much longer than usual.

“Oh, I guess.” Dikos shifts on the anvil, looking uncomfortable. Jason considers offering him a place to stay, easing the awkward atmosphere and then seeing that the metal is finally ready to work, focuses on that.

“Need the anvil.” Jason tells him, picking up his hammer and waving it at Dikos. 

“What?” Dikos blinks at him, eyes flicking all the way up Jason’s body and then drop quickly down so as not to linger on his face, bright blue eyes looking strangely dark in the firelight.

“You’re sitting on my anvil. Move. Unless you want to be pounded by my hammer, that is?” Jason threatens, only realising how suggestive that was until after he’s said it. Jason’s glad that the light from the forge means that the embarrassed flush that’s crossing over his face can’t be seen.

“...My, usually people at least offer to buy me a drink first.” Dikos jokes, slipping off the anvil and taking a few steps back as Jason gets the metal on the anvil and lifts the hammer to strike it. Dikos stands there awkwardly staring as Jason flattens the metal and says nothing. He’s focusing hard on drawing the metal out into a sword shape, losing himself to the rhythm of lift, drop and strike, so that he forgets how Dikos is still standing there watching. Once the metal goes back into the fire to reheat he looks up and Dikos is gazing at him oddly. Jason wonders if someone like Dikos could actually be interested in someone like him and then immediately dismisses the thought.

“You can stay here, if you want.” Jason offers grudgingly. “If you can’t find anywhere else, I guess.” 

“Really? That would be great. Thank you, Jason!” Dikos says, his smile brightening on his face and almost making him glow. Jason blinks at that, shaking his head slightly until the effects of being Aphrodite’s child dim.

“Sure.” Jason hopes this wasn’t the worst idea he’s had.

***

A week later, once Jason’s finished grinding the edge into all of the blades he’s made, and sent one of the local boys off to the warlord with a message that his order’s ready for collection; Jason walks into the small stone house he calls his home ready for lunch. Not that Dikos’ made it. No, all of his admirers have been keeping them in food of varying quality over the last week. Not that Jason’s complaining. It’s been nice to eat food that he hasn’t made himself. He sits at his table and eats the fig salad that’s today’s donated dish. He has the idle thought that maybe he should look into building another room or two onto the back of his house. The small room he lives in, bed pushed against the wall furthest from the forge and mostly taken up by the table and chairs, is fine for one, but two is a tighter squeeze than Jason’s really comfortable with. Dikos’ already being put up in the tiny wooden lean to that Jason usually stores the extra firewood in, and it can’t be that comfortable. Once he’s eaten, dish given a quick wipe with a cloth and stacked on the side he keeps the cooking gear on, he picks up two clubs from the collection of weapons he has in his armoury (he _calls_ it an armoury. It’s really a glorified cupboard) and heads out back to find his guest.

Dikos’ resting or napping, he’s not quite sure, down on the patch of soft grass by the stream that runs through Jason’s land, a little way over from his vegetable patch. Jason’s been trying not to notice how beautiful he is, but it’s somehow harder to ignore when Dikos’ relaxing, not trying to be friendly at him with his annoying goddess given charms. Jason walks over to him, stopping when his shadow covers Dikos’ face and Dikos squints up at him, obviously having being enjoying the sunshine on his face and the sound of the nearby babbling stream. Jason hands him the clubs wordlessly.

“Oh, are these for me?” Dikos says sitting up throwing Jason a confused look after studying them. “But they’re wood...”

“Practice.” Jason says shrugging. “Wanna see how you use them before I make you metal ones.”

“Huh, yes, that does make sense.” Dikos says standing up and moving into a defensive posture. He smoothly flows into shadow fighting, Jason paying close attention to how he holds the clubs, and how his grip shifts with the different moves. Striking out with them, raising them to block blows, hooking at opponents weapons to disarm them, so that he can kick and punch as he pleases. That he uses them almost more for defence than offence. He commits those things to memory before he gets distracted by just how good a fighter Dikos actually is. He leaps and jumps, flipping over his imaginary opponents with ease. It’s both fascinating and beautiful to watch. Dikos slows to a stop, barely even breathing hard and Jason ignores the flash of envy at his skill. Jason crosses his arms in front of him, ignoring the pull in his left shoulder as he brings his arm across his body.

“How was that?” Dikos smiles at him, twirling the clubs in his hands unnecessarily and looking for all the world like he’d just had a tremendous amount of fun.  
“Hmm. Need to measure your hands. But I think I know what you need.” Jason grits out. Stupid sons of Aphrodite and their stupid heart melting smiles. Jason’s spent too much time with the man; he’s starting to lose his immunity to Dikos’ charm.

“Oh, I bet. I can’t wait to get your hands on me.” Dikos giggles, but Jason just gives him a flat stare in return. He’s sure the over the top flirting works on nearly everyone else, but it doesn’t make Jason feel special at all. If anything he finds it off putting. Dikos doesn’t mean it, and Jason doesn’t want meaningless _anything_. 

Jason pulls out the knotted string he uses for measuring, laying it across Dikos’ palms. He gets Dikos to spread his fingers and measures that too. Measurements and moves firmly in his mind, Jason returns to the forge to start work.

***

It takes another five days of forging to get Dikos’ test clubs into a state that Jason feels comfortable with letting Dikos try them out, only to be told that the weight is off between them. Five days of living in close quarters with the Son of Aphrodite. Of eating meals with him, of knowing that he’s sleeping in the pallet just across the room from him. Five days of knowing that there’s just a thin wall between him and Dikos, wet from the bath and all the more attractive for it. It startles Jason to realise that he’s grown used to Dikos being there. That’s he’s started to take into account Dikos’ preferences when he buys food from the local market. They’ve only been living together for a short while, and yet it feels... right, somehow? Jason’s going to miss him when he leaves, and he’s angry with himself for it.

Once Jason’s adjusted the weight and Dikos’ told him that they’re now perfect, Jason makes the actual pair of clubs. He comes out of his forge with them both in hand, finding Dikos in the garden again. He walks over, taking in the sight of Dikos near sparkling in the sunlight like some sort of vision that takes his breath away for a moment. He holds the clubs out and Dikos gives him a blinding smile. 

“They’re finished? They look amazing, Jason.” Dikos says, twirling them and testing the weight, swinging them around and up as if to block a sword from coming down on his head. “They’re perfect. Thank you!” Dikos tackle hugs Jason, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders in happiness and casing him to stumble backward a step or two. Far too happy in Jason’s opinion, but that doesn’t stop him from lifting his good right arm up to rest lightly on Dikos’ back despite himself.

“You’re welcome. Glad you like them.” Jason mutters into Dikos’ ear which is still right by his mouth. The hug seems to be going on for a long time. Longer than Jason remembers hugs lasting. Although, admittedly it has been a few years since he’s been hugged. Dikos pulls back and for a split second Jason thinks he’s going to lean in for a kiss. He pulls right out of Jason’s arm, giving an awkward cough, before he smiles again.

“They’re better than I could have imagined. I think you’ve undercharged me. Are you sure you don’t want more?” Dikos says, twirling the clubs in his hands. Jason would say he was nervous if he didn’t think that was impossible for someone like Dikos.

“Positive. You can recommend me to everyone you beat up with them, if you really want to.” Jason tries for a smile, but he can feel it pulling wrong to the left, so he stops.

“I will absolutely do that.” Dikos grins. “Well. I guess I better get going, huh? Don’t want to outstay my welcome.” Jason almost asks him to stay for one more night, but it’s early in the day with plenty of time to travel to at least the next village over before nightfall and his throat closes up around the words.  
Dikos goes inside to pick up his belongings and Jason curses himself for his inability to say what he wanted to.

***

A month later and Jason comes out of his forge for a cool drink of water from the well and spots a familiar figure walking through the square. Dikos waves and ambles over to him, smiling as he always does, clubs secured on his back looking a little battle worn, but clearly well taken care of.  
“Jason. Fancy meeting you here.” Dikos jokes, and Jason rolls his eyes.

“What brings you back here? Not having a problem with them are you?” Jason motions to Dikos’ clubs with a hand full of empty water cup before filling it from the bucket and draining it in one gulp.

“These? Gods on Olympus, no. They’re even better than I thought they were when you first gave them to me.” Dikos reaches back and pats a club. “No, actually I’m here to commission you again.”

Jason raises his good eyebrow, and motions for Dikos to continue with his right hand.

“My younger brother’s about to go off on a quest. He’s got this prophecy hanging over his head, and I want him to have the best he can get before he goes off in search of his destiny. Think you make him something?” Dikos says, leaning against the wall of the well next to Jason.

“Sure. I just finished my last order, so I can work on whatever you want straight away.” Jason says, sure he’s imagining Dikos’ quick look of disappointment at finding out that Jason can do the commission quickly. Why would he want to hang around Jason for longer than he had to?

“Can you make a staff? I was hoping for something light but strong...” Dikos pulls a length of twine from his pack. “I got the measurements for his hands for you, I thought that might help.” Dikos offers him the twine a little awkwardly.

“Yeah, it will. Good thinking.” Jason says, and the smile he gets from that simple compliment does things to chest that worry Jason. “Why don’t we head into my workshop and discuss it before your fans mob us?” Dikos laughs and Jason feels like he could fight the world. Stupid sons of Aphrodite and the stupid feelings they cause in him.

The staff ends up being very simple, light but strong and shorter than Jason expected, but apparently Timotheus is on the short side, so it’s perfect for him. It doesn’t take much time to forge, so Dikos only ends up staying for three nights with Jason. They quickly fall back into the routine they’d had the first time Dikos stayed with him, in that Dikos would clean and tidy Jason’s small home up during the day. He’d fix the meals (again, mostly donated by his fans) and spend time relaxing and training in Jason’s garden during the day. The evenings though, Dikos regales him with tales of his exploits, defeating evil-doers and rescuing those that need help, telling him more about the other heroes he knows and teams up with. Dikos describes it all so vividly that Jason feels like he was there with him, even though it’s a life that Jason could never hope to be a part of. 

It’s just not something Jason can do, not with his injuries. It’s a miracle that Jason can smith at all, after the injuries he sustained when the master-he’d-apprenticed-with’s forge had exploded with him in it. With burns all across his back and left arm and the left side of his face from the fire, and a badly healed broken ankle from falling masonry that caused him to limp, Jason looks too much like his father for his own comfort. 

Dikos asks once to touch his face. Jason spends a panicked few seconds thinking about it before he agrees. Dikos reaches out slowly, so as not to spook Jason and gently runs the tips of his fingers across Jason’s scars.

“Can you feel that?” Dikos whispers, eyes glowing in the firelight of the hearth.

“No, and it doesn’t hurt either. Just looks... well. Like father like son, or so they say.” Jason says, quietly, wanting, not for the first time, to be able to feel Dikos properly.

“It’s not that bad.” Dikos says. “Well, I mean, once you’ve looked at it more than once.” He adds at Jason’s unconvinced snort.

“Yeah, it is. I’ve had enough people recoil from the sight of me to destroy any illusions that it’s ‘not that bad’ Dikos.” 

“I... I guess I’ve got used to it. I mean, it’s just your face to me now. And it’s quite a dear face, so don’t talk badly of it.” Dikos tells him mock sternly. Jason rolls his eyes at that, but nods a little at Dikos’ continued look.

“Well, if the Son of Aphrodite says so, who am I to argue?” Jason shakes his head a little, accidentally pushing his face further into Dikos’ hand, and now he can feel it. It’s warm and Jason has to close his eyes to prevent any tears slipping out.

“You’re Jason of Seirá Párkon, Master Smith and Son of Hephaestus and my friend. And I’ve never known you not to argue anything if you can.” Dikos says, voice confident and reassuring.

They talk late into the night, each night, knowing that Dikos’ only staying a short while. By the end of their time together, Jason’s head over heels in love despite himself. He’ll only admit out loud that Dikos’ now a friend. Telling Dick that seems to make him extremely happy, so Jason lets himself be happy with Dikos’ friendship. He might want more, but friendship is never a consolation prize as far as Jason is concerned. Lovers might come and go, but a true friend will always be with you.

***

Another month or so goes by and once again, Dikos returns with another commission for Jason.

“Sooo... can you make a long sword? Persian style? My other little brother complained I hadn’t brought anything back for him.” Dikos says, once the conversation moves from the usual opening small talk to the actual commission.

“Can try.” Jason says dubiously. He’s never attempted anything in the Persian style before, and knows little about it.

“Really! Excellent, thank you.” Dikos beams at him. “Can I stay at yours again? I’m still kind of scared of the local ladies around here...”

“Woulda been offended if you went elsewhere, actually.” Jason scoffs. “Unless my place is no longer good enough for a big time hero like yourself.” He lopsidedly grins at Dikos who groans.

“Oh, gods on Olympus! Please tell me the bards haven’t been through here already.” Dikos covers his face with his palm.

“Oh, aye, they have. Gotta say, your saga was definitely the popular choice.” Jason grins again at Dikos’ moan of annoyance. “Personally, I thought it was a bit overblown. I mean, did you really rescue six princesses all by yourself? Seems a bit rude. How about leaving some for the rest of your hero buddies, huh?”

The loud shutting of Jason’s front door is enough of an answer that Jason laughs out loud. Dikos pops his head back out the door, staring at him in shock.

“Did you... did you just... laugh? At me?” Dikos continues to look surprised. “Fields of Asphodel! I didn’t know you could even do that. I can’t even be mad at you!”

It takes Jason two full weeks to forge a Persian sword that he’s happy to allow out of the workshop. During that time, he and Dikos get even closer and Jason feels his heart getting fuller with love for the roving hero. He tries to keep his feelings pushed down, so as to not make Dikos uncomfortable, but it gets harder as each day passes. 

Dikos looks happy with the sword, which is all Jason wants. So when Dikos looks sad as he holds the wrapped and bundled weapon in his arms, with his pack on his back ready to leave, Jason gives in for a moment and hugs Dikos tight, carefully counting in his head so that he won’t hold on too long. After Jason pulls back, Dikos stays in close to him and Jason blinks, taking in the amazing blue of Dikos’ eyes in contrast to his soft dark hair. Neither of them say anything for a long moment, and just as Jason’s about to step away, Dikos leans in and kisses him full on the lips. Jason freezes, his mind overloaded with the sensation and taste of Dikos’ slightly chapped lips pressing softly against his, the smell of his hair, and the weight of his chest pressed against his. 

Suddenly, Dikos tears himself away and is running down the street before Jason can lift a hand or even unstick his tongue to say anything. Jason’s heart sinks and he turns back to the forge to hide in the shadows of his workshop.

***

It’s another three months before Jason sees Dikos again. Jason’s stepped out of his forge for some fresh not-heated air and when he turns around Dikos’ standing there, looking awkward and unsure. It’s not a good look for him.

“So, I realise you probably don’t want to see me again, but uh... well, I have another commission for you? Although if you want to turn me down, I’ll understand and be on my way.” Dikos blurts out, before biting his lip. Jason’s in two minds, on the one hand, there Dikos is in all his glory, waiting on Jason’s say-so to even talk to him. That’s something Dikos’ never had a problem doing before. It’s a little heady, realising that Jason’s got the upper hand right now. 

On the other, the bastard had run out on him without even letting Jason react and then not a word for three gods-be-damned months. Once Jason had come out of his _he kissed ME!_ stupor, he began to get angry, first at himself for not reacting fast enough, then at Dikos for running off so fast, and then at Dikos again for not so much as message in all that time. Jason’s not sure if he’s still angry or hurt or just relieved to see Dikos again so he decides to buy himself some time.

“What’s the commission?” Short and to the point, Jason lets his words come out clipped. Perhaps a bit too clipped given Dick’s wince, but then again, Three Whole Months.

“Well, I wanted to get some arm braces for my sister.” Dikos says, biting his lip for a second as he pauses. “I know you don’t make armour, but nearly every other member of our family has something made by you, and I can’t have her feeling left out, but she doesn’t use weapons, so uh, braces?”

Jason studies Dikos as he speaks, taking in the state of him. Dikos’ picking at the hem of his shirt anxiously and his clothes are dirtier and more worn than Jason remembers them being, there are dark circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t been sleeping well, and his hair has grown out long, nearly brushing his shoulders. It’s the worst Jason’s ever seen him and Jason can’t help but wonder if he’s the cause. 

“One question, then I’ll tell you if I’ll make your braces.” Jason says. Dikos looks confused but hopeful, so when he nods, Jason steels himself for disappointment. “Why’d you run?”

“Should have known you’d want to get straight into it.” Dikos sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “You didn’t kiss me back, Jason. And despite what the bards might sing, I’m not the kind of man to force my kisses on anyone. You didn’t kiss me back, and I panicked. So I ran. I’m sorry. For kissing you. For running. I...” Dikos trails off, biting his lip again and ducking his head. Jason wants to bite that lip too.

“You surprised me. I didn’t think you were interested in me, so you kissing me came out of nowhere. Didn’t mean I didn’t want it.” Jason says, keeping his eyes trained on Dikos’ as Dikos jerks his head up, startled. 

“I... you... you did? But you... you never seemed to! I mean everyone else always does, but you. You didn’t. And then you hugged me, and I thought... well, I guess I thought right?” Dikos blinks at him. “Oh wow, I’ve been an idiot. Everyone’s told me I’ve been an idiot, but I didn’t believe it till now. I’m sorry I’m an idiot.”

“Well, I already knew that so, I don’t mind. Don’t like the running though. Don’t do that again, and we’ll be fine.” Jason says, grabbing Dikos by the shirt and hauling into the back of the workshop, past the forge and into the shadows.

“Uh... you’re not going to murder me are you? Because that would be a very unsatisfying ending to my tales, you know? The bards won’t like it!” Dikos jokes, but his nervousness is obvious.

“No, I’m not going to murder you. Won’t get paid for that commission if I do. Bad business practice that, murdering your clients.” Jason leans in and whispers in Dikos’ face. He lets go of Dikos’ shirt and moves his arm down and around his waist. Jason presses their foreheads together and Dikos pulls in a deep breath, sliding his hands up Jason’s arms to rest on his shoulders. Jason’s not actually sure which of them closes the distance between them, he just know that he’s finally kissing Dikos the way he’s wanted to since the first time Dikos hugged him. He gives in to the urge he’s had and bites Dikos’ lip gently, Dikos moans and Jason smiles, pressing Dikos up against the wall. Dikos breaks the kiss, panting a little while his eyes glow in the shadows.

“So... uh, you’re taking the commission then?” Dikos gasps as Jason very gently takes some of the skin of his neck between his teeth and worries at it.  
“Oh, the commission ain’t the only thing I’ll be taking, Dikos.” He says, growling slightly.

“Good, it’ll have to be the last one though, I’m running out of coin...” Dikos mumbles. “Please, take whatever you want. Please...”

“Don’t mind that.” Jason says in between pressing kisses into Dikos’ neck. “Don’t even mind you being a popular wandering hero, either. As long as you come back home.” 

“I can do that. Fields of Asphodel, I can do that!” Dikos gasps out. “I... you’re sure you want me in your home?”

“Yes, our home, now stop talking and let me ravish you.” Jason mutters into Dikos’ ear.

“Our home?” Dikos bucks up against him. “Since when?” he asks with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Since you first stayed here, and you know it.” Jason says, impatiently. He presses against Dikos harder.

“Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it...” Dikos smiles, almost glowing in happiness, and Jason wants to flick the sparkles away but settles for kissing him instead. Dikos deepens the kiss, opening his mouth wider and letting his hands wander up to tenderly cradle the sides of Jason’s head.

Dikos might be a stupid Son of Aphrodite, but he’s Jason’s stupid Son of Aphrodite now, and that’s all that matters really.


End file.
